


first snow's wish

by Rupzydaisy



Series: in any other world [3]
Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Canon Divergent, Christmas fic, F/M, Happy Ending, Post-Film, Wondertrev Secret Santa 2019, wondertrev
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22053439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rupzydaisy/pseuds/Rupzydaisy
Summary: Diana heads back to Belgium to help reunite a family at Christmas, and finds more than what she’s expecting in the first snowfall of the year.
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman)/Steve Trevor
Series: in any other world [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1403701
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	first snow's wish

**Author's Note:**

> this was a wondertrev secret santa 2019 gift for dreamer-wisher-liar with the prompts; snowstorm, remembrance, and happy ending

Diana walked into Etta’s small office and quickly pulled off her gloves, wasting no time in crouching down beside the dying embers in the fireplace to warm up her fingertips. Feeling her cheeks prickle with the lingering heat, she was immensely thankful about being quick in shutting the door behind her. It was very tempting to throw another log onto the fire, especially with the icy draft leaking in from the hallway, but they had lunch plans outdoors. So, with a little more reluctance than would have benefited the Princess of Themyscira, she let it be. 

“It’s only me.” She called over her shoulder, hearing her friend rattling about with the filing cabinets behind her. “You know Etta, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how cold it is here.”

“What, oh, yes-” 

Diana stood and turned on the spot to try and see past the large filing cabinets lined up across the room to split it almost in half. “Etta?”

“Oh, we’ll be...a minute?” 

“We?” 

Walking forwards slowly, Diana finds her friend hunched over her desk surrounded by piles of paperwork. On the other side of the desk, sat a teary, blonde woman in a washed-out burgundy blazer and skirt. The woman was wringing her hands and as Diana stepped past the cabinets, she could see the sheepish expression plastered over Etta’s face. 

“Ah, this is Mrs Sarah Berlow, she's an old friend of a friend.” Etta initial flustering settled as she slipped out from behind the desk with a file in each hand. 

Sarah brushed the back of her hand against her wet cheeks and chuckled in embarrassment. “Nice to meet you.” 

“And you.”

“Sarah’s come asking for news of her son, James. He was in at the front, last she heard...Sorry Diana, but I think lunch might have to wait.” Etta waved at the paperwork and maps spread out on her desk as she took out another folder. “This is Miss Prince. She did some work with us in Belgium.” 

It was like a lightning bolt struck the woman, and Sarah sat up straighter in her chair. 

“Oh, Belgium? My Jamie was sent to the front there. Etta here’s helping me look for him. He hasn’t come home, no letters for months, and no one can tell me anything-”

Then she caught herself, suddenly realising what Etta had meant. When she squinted to look at Diana again, tears fell from the corners of her eyes and there was a tremble of something else in her voice. 

“You were in the war?”

"Yes." 

Diana answered plainly, preferring not to go into the details. It had become easy to leave it at that, especially with most people keen to begin moving on. Funerals had occurred, victory celebrations had filled the streets, and after everything was done, people returned to their homes and families to put their lives back together. For her, it had been different, and she had stayed because there was nowhere else to go, and for the time being, no where she’d rather be. 

Etta exchanged a look with her over Sarah’s shoulder before she cut in. “Diana’s help was invaluable. But all hush-hush, if you know what I mean."

“I’m sure.” Sarah tacked on, a little confused but believing Etta’s words. 

“Miss Prince, I have to ask...I have to explore _every_ possible avenue, because it's the not knowing that the worst, especially at this time of year. And just knowing-" 

Diana listened, respectful of the silence when the woman cut herself off with her lips pressed together. “We will never stop hoping he might come back, but I’m constantly terrified that he might be dead- I can’t handle it.”

Sarah took in a shaky breath, looking worse for the wear and then reached out her hand to clutch at Diana’s, wrapping her thin, cold fingers around her wrist. Her fingertips brushed against the leather strap on Steve’s watch and then she took Diana’s hands in between her own. 

It made Diana freeze. 

Her broken heart swelled in her chest and the decision was made almost instantly, but she didn’t realise it until the words fell out of her mouth. 

“I’ll go.” 

“Diana?” Etta asked slowly, placing a file down on the desk. “I mean-”

She trailed off when Diana looked over at her with grim determination set in every line on her face. There was no taking back the offer once she made it, just like there was no going back to Themyscira for her. Staying in London had been a choice she had made because she felt there was work she could do to make her leaving Themyscira more worthwhile than just fighting in the war. Ares had been wrong in so many ways, and Steve’s sacrifice and belief in her ability to help beyond that night had mean something more than what she had originally seen. 

There had been a night, a week or so before they got to Veld when Chief and Sameer had sat down with her in the dead of night and explained about all the countries who had taken up arms against each other, despite lacking limbs of their own, and how their men had followed orders to fall in line, and then on the battlefields. Young and old, they had left their homes and knew not all would return, and as the fighting went on, she had seen it happen with her own eyes. 

Now it made her think that to be forever missing was a terrible kind of limbo. 

“I’ll go to look for your son.” Diana gently squeezed Sarah’s hands as she fell back in her chair, staggered by the turn of events, and murmured her thanks under her breath with wide eyes. “It took more than one person to start this war, and it’ll take more than one to end it. I’ve learnt that it’s all of us who can do that, together, with the help we can give.” 

"Right then," Etta tipped her head and scooped her files back up again. “Let’s get to it.” 

xxx 

Diana and Etta spent the rest of that week following the paper trail, and for every ten letters that passed through their hands, there was only one with some relevance to James Berlow’s regiment. It goes on until Etta finally traded a favour to gain a copy of the order that sent his regiment to Passchendaele. After that, it became easier to follow the regiment’s march to the front, and their capture shortly before the end of the war. It painted a sorry tale and there were holes along the way, with gaps of weeks between transfers arising from the endless conveyor belt churning out boatloads of soldiers shipped out. 

Yet, they finally found what they were looking for and at the end of the week Diana walked into the small office with a borrowed, thick blue woollen coat and a small travel bag filled with essentials. Etta let her in before she knocked a second time and handed over a boat ticket that would take her to Ostend. 

“Thank you, Etta.” 

Diana tucked the papers into her coat pocket, and lifted a second, large bag from by her feet to slide it across the desk. Leaning over, Etta peeked inside to see the gleam of Diana’s sword and shield inside. 

“Ah, of course.” She clutched it to her chest and levered it into the safe behind her while muttering under her breath, “Is it heavier? I think it’s heavier.” 

When she turned back, she saw Diana hiding a smile and pulled a face back at her.

“Right, so you know Bruges is your best bet. If you head to the old Red Cross hospital, someone will know something. Any general hospital of that size will have some papers, and you can work backwards from there.” 

As Etta packed up the last pieces of paperwork for Diana to take, including a small photograph of James Berlow that his mother had brought with her, Diana buttoned up her coat once more. It made little sense for her to linger and she felt an itch at the base of her neck; the urge to move and start the search. There was a measure of purpose she’s not felt for weeks, and her time spent mourning Steve’s death and the overwhelming sense of loss she had discovered, had receded after she had offered her help to Sarah Berlow. 

But she hesitated when she noticed the uneasiness on Etta’s face. “It doesn’t seem right, you leaving now so close to Christmas.”

“Etta?”

“I wrangled an invite to my second cousin's place out in the country, I’ve not seen them since I first came over, but I twisted an arm or two and they’ve made an extra space for you. I know it’s not home, but you're always welcome if nothing pans out because people do go missing...and sometimes they can’t be found.”

Diana nodded, pushing an unbidden thought away and instead pressed a kiss to Etta’s cheek. “You’re a good friend, and don’t worry about me, I’ll be back." 

xxx

The journey to Ostend was as smooth sailing as it could have gone, and when Diana arrived in Bruges, there was something of a paper tail at the Red Cross hospital for her to follow. She moved from room to room, through boxes of archived files and records of surgeries until she found what she was looking for. The information pointed her to a small countryside manor near Mitswege, not too far from Veld, which had been used as a field hospital during the war before being turned into an overspill recuperation home for Allied soldiers who couldn’t be transferred to Antwerp and evacuated out, or moved to the larger, moving military hospitals. 

Diana steeled herself as she crossed the familiar scarred land and half-empty villages mentioned in the stacks of reports Etta and Diana had read through over the past week and moved quickly to arrive just as dusk settled on Christmas Eve, along with the first flurries of snow.

They began to fall from the thick grey clouds, accompanied by a biting nip in the air just as she walked up the stony path from the main road. She jammed her hands further into her pockets in an effort to keep them warm and looked around, hearing the rustle of tall grass and weeds brushing against her trousers. It was a picturesque place, in the half-light and the greenery had overrun with a lack of hands to tend to the ground, which made it look as though the place had been forgotten by the war. It was harder to compare the damage seen in the scorched houses and bomb-ridden fields she had passed on her way there. 

As she approached, Diana saw clusters of candlelight glowing in adjacent windows on the far side of the manor house. But closer to the front door, most windows only had shadows or were missing glass panes. When she knocked on the peeling wood, there was no answer, but the wind whistled high and reedy, and the snow began to fall steadier. Without waiting any longer, she gave the door a heavy shove. The hinges creaked loudly in protest, but she sighed in relief to be out of the cold. 

Inside was much darker. She stepped in further slowly, letting her eyes adjust, and unwound her scarf from around her neck to stuff it into her pocket before moving around. Much like the grounds she had walked through, there were small clues to what it might have looked like as a great lobby. Yet it no longer contained any fine furnishings and the carpet areas had patches of lighter fabric where tables and chairs had been removed. Her boots scraped against the bare flooring as she went, until she heard a creaking from the floorboards above. 

Diana looked up to see a short, dark-haired woman wearing a nurse’s white apron and blue cardigan. The woman called down to her with her arms full of folded blankets, looking nervous at the presence of the unexpected visitor. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m Diana Prince.” 

“Alright, but that doesn’t explain why you’re here.” The nurse hoisted her arms up and walked down the stairs. “And there’s a snowstorm coming, so tell me, why are you here?” 

Diana met her at the foot of the staircase to explain, “I’m here on behalf of a woman called Sarah Berlow. She’s the mother of an officer in a British regiment who were last seen in this area after being captured.” 

“I was told at the general hospital in Bruges that some soldiers already recuperating may have stayed behind in the field...if their injuries were too severe. I thought he might have been brought here after the war ended.” Diana continued, keen to find an answer quickly, or move on while there was a little daylight. 

“The man’s name is Berlow.”

“Berlow? Ah, Jamie.” The frown on the nurse’s face suddenly vanished, replaced by a wary relief, and she dumped half her blankets into Diana’s arms. “You’d better come with me. I’m Josie, by the way.”

The nurse led the way along empty corridors until they reached a small courtyard. The small garden packed between moss covered walls was in much better upkeep than the larger grounds outside having been swept clean and free of weeds, although lacking any foliage in the midst of winter. The path across to the other side the manor was slick underfoot as the snow falling through the square gap above was sticking to the dark cobblestones. 

“Through here, Diana.” Josie called her over, holding the door open with her foot. 

“Where are you from? You’re not Belgian, are you?” Diana asked after struggling to place her accent while they made conversation. 

“Manchester. Well, just outside of. It’s normally a lot colder up north, so this sprinkle of snow’s not so bad.” 

As they approached the far end of the manor, it became warmer and sounds of life drew them further in. From either side of the corridor, noise spilled out from the open doorways, and was accompanied by strips of candlelight falling out into the darker hallway. There was a general air of bustling around as a handful of patients, some with crutches and others holding lit candlesticks crossed their path.

Two younger nurses in white aprons and thick blue cardigans followed and Josie quickly handed off both their stacks of blankets. "Pass them out, Miranda, and make sure you have enough for yourselves too,” 

The other nurse eyed Diana with bright, curious eyes. "Who's she?" 

Josie jerked her head, "Off with you! No time to gawk at visitors." 

The two nurses hurried off as Josie headed towards a side room, but then she turned on her heel and let out a snort. Her eyes were a warm brown, filled with mirth. " _Who’s she?_ Oh, honestly! Any little change around here really gets them gossiping."

"How many of you are there?"

"Nurses? Only six of us.” She stepped past Diana to open a cupboard and thin candlesticks rattled around, but she pushed them aside to take out a small box of matches. “We've managed to hang onto three doctors, well two, because Dolly married Samuel so he would have stayed anyway."

"And patients?"

"Forty-one."

Diana's eyes widened, surprised at the high number. "That many?" 

"We weren't about to leave when we were still needed! Most are on the mend, and a few are ready to move, but the bad weather and the state of the roads makes things harder." She shrugged her shoulders. "Look, we have the room, and the food parcels get delivered mostly on time."

She walked back out to the hallway and led Diana all the way down to a large room on the very end. As they approached, the noise turned into a louder, low murmur of general chatter punctuated by the sound of men laughing. 

“Jamie? Where’s Jamie? Jamie, a visitor for you!” Josie called out as she walked down between two rows of beds against the walls. 

She pointed out a man in thick woollen trousers to Diana from across the room. He wore a winter coat slung over his shirt, like many of the other men. At first, Diana could only spot his blond hair, until he turned and then she could see just how much he looked like the young man in Sarah’s photograph, right down to the broad smile. There was only one difference between the photograph creased into quarters and carried around in his mother's purse; he was missing an eye. 

“A visitor?” His smile widened even more as he looked at Josie, her own brimming elation seeming infectious to him. 

"This is Diana, Diana Prince.” 

Josie reached forward to grab hold of his coat sleeve and tugged him back through to the hall and into a small side room with stacked furniture covered in sheets. 

He helped Josie to grab three chairs, and together they brushed off the worst of the dust. But in the face of his excitement, Diana wavered on the edge of the threshold, unsure how to explain her presence, “I- your mother wanted to find you.” 

James froze and twisted around to look past her at the empty doorway. There was a brief flash of hope and sadness in his face before he shook himself out of any fanciful notions. “She’s not here, is she?” 

Diana’s smile was small, but she spoke encouragingly. “No, but she’s waiting for you at home. All of your family are waiting for you to return.” 

James nodded at her and allowed Josie to take his arm. She guided him to the closest chair beside Diana who followed to sit too. When he let himself wilt forwards, Josie reached out to gently touch his hand. 

“It’s a shock.” Josie spoke softly, “But it’s a good thing.” 

“I should know.” He snorted and pointed at his scarred face. “I’ve been here longer than I’d like.”

A small silence settled on them, and Diana only nodded, feeling as though he had more to say. 

“Apparently these kinds of injuries are harder to treat in places like this. And it’s hard getting word out or in because of the bombing and fighting. There’s no telephone lines within fifty miles, and the electricity is out too. I sent a letter, only last week, but I’m not sure if it’ll get there before I do.” 

When he saw Diana’s smile twitch upwards, and he seemed glad to have made her laugh. “Oh, don’t you worry about me Miss Prince. The doctor told me I’ll be good to travel in a week or so.”

“Less than two,” Josie chipped in, her hand clasped tight around his. “Dr Marchiers told me. And speaking of, I should head off to help out. I’ve spent too long here.” 

With a nod, he let her hand slip out of his, but brought his head up just as she was about to walk out of the door. “I’ll be going home soon, Josie.”

It seemed strange to Diana, as though the thought had only just occurred to him and she turned to see a similar, sudden ripple of emotion overcome the nurse. Josie quickly stepped back out of the doorway as if to distance herself from it. 

“I’m sure you will be, Jamie.”

Her footsteps sounded down the hallway, and Diana asked the only question left on her mind. “Jamie?” 

“A slip of the tongue, from when we first met. It’s kinda stuck, and to be honest, I’d let her call me anything.” James coughed awkwardly and stood. “How do you know my mother? I can’t say I recognise your name.” 

“She’s a friend of friend,” explained Diana. 

James was quiet for some time before he turned back to her, “But why are you here? It hardly makes my disappearance meaningful to you?”

“I don’t- I-” 

“What makes a woman like yourself come here, of all places, in the aftermath of a war? And at Christmas time? You must have a family of your own. A home of your own.” 

Her eyes prickled and her heartbeat thumped louder in her ears until she blurted it out. “I was here, in the war. Not for long, but long enough. I lost someone, so when I heard your mother talking about you, I thought if I could help, then I should. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“That’s…” James shook his head, “So little a reason, but you can’t imagine how much you have helped. To know that my family are still thinking of me…” 

“I’ve learnt that it’s not about what you deserve.” 

“None of us deserved this war.” He inclined his head, recognising the look on her face. “Who did you lose?” 

“Someone important, someone I loved.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I am too.” 

He took a deep breath and twisted away to face the window to give her some privacy. Diana blinked away the water in her eyes until she could see again. She fell silent beside him and together they watched the snow drift silently to the ground while the wind picked up to blow great swirls of it against the glass frames. When the silence had settled into something more comfortable and less pinched by any feelings of the past, James spoke again.

“You should stay here until the weather clears up. We’re not much, but we’re good company.” 

Her smile returns and she reaches forward to shake his outstretched hand. “Thank you.” 

When he levered himself up to his feet, she remained seated, glad to rest her feet after the long walk. He was almost halfway to the door when he paused, and turned back to ask, “Have you made your wish?”

“Wish?” 

“The first snowfall is supposed to be special. Something the locals have been telling us, but between you and me, I think any old soldier would believe anything a pretty nurse would say. Still, all of us have been waiting for it."

"Have you made one?" 

"I have." 

He blushed and looked down at his feet in a way that made Diana wonder what kind of wish would cause this kind of bashfulness. 

"I suppose I shouldn't be telling you this, but I feel like your visit has given me a bit of luck.” He cleared his throat and looked a little paler but not from standing for so long. “I'm going to ask Josie if she wants to come home with me."

"Ah,” Diana grinned. 

"She's been an angel, through everything. Sometimes I have to pinch myself." James' smile quickly returned, and he raised his hands with a plea "Can you keep it under your hat?" 

Diana's eyes flicked to the empty doorway and she smiled back, her own grief slowly melting in the face of his good cheer. "Good luck. But perhaps you don't need it."

"We've talked about things. But it's not the same as really asking. I'm a wreck, just look at me." He laughed nervously, "Ah, sod it. I need to go walk off the nerves."

He brightened up as he shuffled towards the door, calling over his shoulder to her. “Besides, I said I’d help set out the chairs, for this evening. Freddy and one of the nurses are going to sing carols in the big room. Come through when you like. She’s got a pretty voice, but he’s a bit of a belter so don’t stand too close.”

“I will.” 

xxx

After he left, Diana moved to stand by the window and watched the snow turn into a thick downfall. The grass was completed covered, and if it continued through the night to become the snowstorm everyone was promising, she knew it would hamper her journey back. 

For the moment she put it out of her thoughts and leaned forward until her cheek was pressed up against the cold glass. 

She had made wishes before, as a child. Her mother had taught her the trick of them, how they had to be wished from by the heart, and less by the tongue. It was a funny thing for a child to comprehend, but as an adult, it seemed harder than Diana realised. 

Still, she breathed gently, clearing her mind. Her hand was clasped over her arm, and her fingers slipped down to touch the wrist strap on his watch. But when she goes to make a wish, it’s not her own voice she hears, nor her wish that falls out of her mouth. 

_I wish we had more time._

Diana stayed until the snow collected into a thick layer on top of the windowsill, and when she breathed out there was a faint but visible puff of breath. For the first time in a long time, she shivered, missing the warmth of the sun on Themyscira, of being surrounded by family and friends. 

xxx

Diana paused at the doorway to the hall and looked in to see the large room full. It was crammed with people from wall to wall, and they had even rolled through a few beds and carried chairs in from every corner of the manor house. It was noisy and the singing had already begun, but she lingered by the door and listened to the soldier and the nurse standing at the centre of the room singing. Despite the snowstorm outside and the men’s injuries and battle scars, there was a camaraderie in all of the patients that she recognised. It took her back to Veld in the evening after the dust from the battle had settled and Charlie sat down at the piano. 

Josie and James waved her over to sit beside them on a battered cluster of chairs, so she edged past a patient with his leg strapped high, hanging from a winch to keep it elevated, and he raised his mug of hot chocolate to her as the singing swelled at a chorus. 

An older sergeant with carefully combed greying hair carrying a tray of mugs passed one over to Diana before taking a seat beside her. “Miss Prince, is it? They were telling me you came from Ostend, in this weather! I’m Owen Withers, pleasure to meet you.”

After taking her first sip, she had to turn back to him. “This is _really_ good. It’s like ice cream, and so sweet!” 

He grinned toothily at her, and his split lip curled back. “Wait until you try a Bakewell tart, or a scone with proper jam and clotted cream. I visited St Ives once, with my aunt and cousins. Were like biting into a cloud.” 

“Sergeant Withers right. I hear that the fancy tea shops in London have the same sort, if you saved up for it.” Josie turned back to Diana, “You came here from London, will you be going back there?” 

The question took her by surprise, and she turned the empty mug in her hands while the nurse at the far end of the room began to sing about a bleak midwinter. 

“Yes, for now. I don’t have anywhere else to go, for now. But Etta is there, and I’ve helped with some translations for some of her contacts. It’s a start.”

“Nowhere to go, and here on Christmas Eve. Sounds like you’ve been through the wringer. You lost someone, didn’t you?” Owen sniffed and set down his mug on the floor. 

Across from her, James froze and Josie attempted to hush the old soldier, but the man clicked his tongue and carried on regardless, “Oh, come on, he didn’t blab, but I’ve seen that look before. Your man, was he?” 

“Something like that.”

“We all know what it’s like.” Owen tutted sympathetically, and Diana felt a little less taken aback by it after she realised that his words were meant as a comfort. “Everyone here’s missing someone. And we’ve got people from all over, France, Belgium, a couple of English blokes. Oh, and the American too, what a poor sod!” 

The man levered himself up to his feet and shuffled off to ask for a second mug of hot chocolate, leaving James behind to explain it to her. “The American was found injured in the countryside, dragged himself to get help.”

Diana winced at the thought. “That’s awful!”

“And then he was asleep for weeks because of his injuries. Broken leg, a broken collarbone, and exhaustion. Only just woke up properly two days ago, didn’t he Josie?”

“ _Completely_ delirious before that! Rarely conscious and us nurses were being run ragged trying to find out who he was. No papers, stolen uniform, no clues.” Then she caught sight of Diana’s face and patted her hand. “He’s doing better now though, and at some point he might actually tell us why he was out there in the first place.”

James rolled his eyes before nudging Diana’s elbow. “Hey, you’re a well-travelled gal, London, Belgium, wherever you call home. Tell me, what do you call an American sleeping beauty at Christmas?” 

A voice from behind Diana, with recognisable American accent, was quicker to reply. “I don’t know, Berlow, but I do think you need to work on your punch lines. At this rate, you’ll be laughed out of the country before you get a chance to leave on your own terms.”

As she twisted in her seat to see who spoke, the singing in the hall roused up again and the low baritones of Fred the soldier melded together with the nurse’s lilting notes, but for Diana, it was like the world had fallen away for the second time in her life.

Even though she was seated her boots slipped against the floor, as the nurse pushing his wheelchair slowed to a stop when he raised a shaky hand.

"Steve." 

The whisper escaped from her lips and the ache in her heart returned anew, bleeding and beating, furiously alive and desperate to not be ignored.

He looked battered and bruised, as if he had fought Ares himself. One arm was held in place with a white cloth sling, while his free hand was bandaged, along with his leg in a cast. He looked _tired_ , and her heart nearly leaped out of her chest, as she drank in the sight of him.

“Diana?” 

Although unaware of it, she hadn't breathed until she heard the sound of his voice again, and he seemed to be suffering from the same feeling; with eyes that were wide and dazed as if the blow of seeing her was a physical one. 

"Steve?"

The small wrinkles around his eyes deepened, and his own whisper carried his disbelief across the small distance between them, “How are you here?”

“She came looking for me, as a favour for my mother. It’s quicker than the post, I guess.” James, slow to notice, answered when she didn’t reply, but Steve didn't turn to look at the man answering him. 

His blue eyes remained fixed on Diana in astonishment and she didn’t dare to look away, not while he was there. If she turned, or blinked, her sole, biggest fear was that he might just disappear. But she managed to repeat his question back to him, even with memories of his funeral and the end of war celebrations crowding her mind. 

“How are _you_ here?” 

“I fell. I thought I was going to die, but the explosion threw me away from the flames, and into a lot of trees. I don’t remember mu-” 

Diana launched herself forward, arms reaching out for him and his explanation was cut off. Underneath her hands, he was solid, warm, and very alive. His free hand reached around her waist to grip her back and it was nothing like her memories, because there was no smell of gunpowder or churned up mud. The lump in her throat returned when she wrapped her arms around him, but she held him close, careful of the sling trapping one arm to his chest. 

“If we had known you were _alive_ , if we had known you were here-”

“They didn’t have your lasso, Diana.” Steve muttered under his breath and she huffed out a breath in reply over his shoulder. “Could have been quicker.” 

When she cut his muffled laughter off with a kiss, there was only warmth. It was different to the soft brush of their lips at Veld, or the frantic desperation in their last moments with him. She thinks she could stay in the moment forever, held in the overwhelming happiness of finding him again.

“I can’t believe it!” Josie squeaked suddenly between the fingers covering her mouth in surprise, “It’s him!” 

Beside her, James blinked, stunned at the reunion that no one would ever have expected to take place there. “That’s one heck of a wish, Miss Prince!”

But Diana didn’t hear a thing.

To her, the world had shrunk down to just her and Steve, but it was suddenly not nearly as fragile or fleeting as she had once thought. 


End file.
